


Backseat Blues

by SCRedfield



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, M/M, Making Up, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCRedfield/pseuds/SCRedfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam retreats to the Impala after having a bad fight with Dean. Dean meanwhile comes out to check on him to make sure he's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat Blues

Dean found Sam in the Impala, asleep in the backseat.

They had another fight. Not their usual brotherly banter, but a real fight. Whenever that happened Sam would always either hang out a local bar until he was kicked out, or crash inside the Impala.

Even after leaving the bar, he would always end up back in hotel room, but in the opposite bed. 

This time, Dean figured he never went.

He guessed the fight was a bigger deal than he thought.  
Unlocking the door quietly, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to his brothers temple. Then, after taking off his jacket, covered him with it. 

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered, playing with his hair. "I guess--"

Sam sat up suddenly, startled. He moved to the other end of the car like a trapped animal--and held out his knife in defense.

"Whoa whoa whoa there, Sammy! Calm down," Dean reassured, gesturing with his hands that he was unarmed. "It's just me, okay? Cool your britches."

"D-Dean?" Sam stuttered, lowering the knife. 

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "Well I ain't Santa Claus." He indicated to the now empty seat. "May I join you?"

Sam nodded, however shook up he still felt. Without another word, Dean got in and sat down, closing the door. 

"You gave me your jacket?"

"You looked cold."

"...thanks."

"Don't mention it." 

Sam put the knife away. "The answer is no."

"What?"

"I'm not coming back in with you."

"So you'd rather sleep in here all night?"

"That's the plan."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean 'why not'? Dean, we had a fight!"

"So? All couples fight. What's so different about ours?"

"..."

"Sam--"

"You scared me."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, turning to look at him. 

"You scared me," Sam repeated, refusing to meet his eyes.  
   
"How?"

The younger fidgeted. "When you yelled, and got that crazy look in your eyes... I dunno, but you just did. You scared me bad, Dean."

"Apparently not bad enough to chase you away to a bar." Dean pointed out. He sighed as Sam went quiet, leaning back and mulling over what his brother said. "Did I really come off that way? Sammy? Did I?"

Sam huddled the jacket more against him. "You did," he answered quietly. "And you weren't even drunk."

"Sam, I--"

"Can't you just...go back inside, and leave me alone for once?" Sam asked, finally looking at him. "It was bad enough you were yelling at me as harshly as you did, but...when you come out here and wake me up in the middle of the night--"

"Hey, I came out here to apologize and to get your chilly ass back inside where it's nice and warm next to me!" Dean growled, pointing a finger. "You really think I want you to wake up with a stiff neck? Or with a cold? In case you haven't noticed Sammy, it's fuckin' freezing out here and I'll be damned I'm gonna let my brother withstand another second of it."

"So then what?" Sam argued back. "You going to drag me out by force if I refuse?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of this damn car, and into bed with me."

He guffawed, looking away. “You just don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope.”

“So then you’d rather make our argument physical and drag me out by an ear?”

“Ankles are better.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re just as stubborn as me.” 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“I’m still not coming in.”

“Well then, I guess I’m bunking in here with you tonight. Because I ain’t leaving.”

“You’ll get cold.”

“So?”

“I have your jacket.”

“There’s a spare blanket in the trunk.”  
“…”

“Forgot about it, didn’t you?”

“I hate you.”

“Good.”

“…”

“…please come inside with me, Sammy.” Dean tried again. “I’m sorry for what I said…and that I scared you. I don’t…I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. Again. And neither do you.”  
Now it was Sam’s turn to think it over. Dean watched as he struggled on what to do, his brows furrowing. After a few moments of silence, Sam took off the jacket and tossed it to him.

“Screw it,” he sighed in defeat, opening the door to get out. Dean followed him out, locking the car up. “If we’re gonna get angry again, might as well do it naked and in bed.”

“Now that’s the type of fighting I’d rather be doing,” Dean agreed, catching up to him and placing an arm around his waist. “Good ‘ol praises to the Lord—or me, seeing as I am ‘God’ when you’re yelling in that state.”

Sam smiled. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”


End file.
